Kidnapped
by SymphonicRedWolf
Summary: Alfred runs out to do something special to celebrate Matt's big hockey win and comes home to find his brother has been kidnapped by a mysterious criminal. Lead Detective Ivan Braginsky is put on the case and it's up to him to track down the man before any harm comes to Matt. But when it seems like Ivan and the criminal know each other, are his motives really what they seem?
1. Chapter 1

"Yo, Mattie, you hungry?" Alfred asked, halfway in the fridge. He had shoved himself into their large fridge as far as he could go, looking around for anything worthy of satisfying the American's hunger. "I was thinking of making you something special today. You know, to celebrate!"

"Celebrate?" Matt asked curiously, tilting his head at his brother.

"Yeah! You and your team just won your last big game! Of course, with you as my brother, that's to be expected, right? That last goal you shot was amazing."

He and his college team had just won their championship game against their long-time rivals, Matt scoring the seemingly impossible winning goal just seconds before the buzzer. The crowd roared, screaming Matt's name, the rest of his teammates tackling him onto the ice in what was supposed to be a hug.

Matt had been the star of his ice hockey team since he joined in middle school. Hockey had always been a big part of his life; he started practicing as soon as he could walk. It was one of his favourite things next to pancakes and maple syrup, of course. When he had spare time, he would often disappear to the nearby ice rink, practicing his shots. Occasionally he would practice with Alfred; the American could hold his own somewhat decently and Matt would usually give him a little time to keep up before completely destroying him, scoring goal after goal despite Alfred's comments that he was "totally letting him win because he didn't want to make him feel bad because of his awesome skill."

Not to say that Alfred couldn't prove to be a decent challenge when he wanted to, but football was more his game. He was a force to be reckoned with on the field.

The older blonde smiled, walking over to Al and casually pushing him further into the fridge until he heard his head hit the back with a light thunk. Alfred whined out his brother's name, but that didn't stop him from continuing to move containers of leftovers around in his seemingly hopeless quest for the perfect dish.

"Damn it, we're all out… I was hoping to make you your favourite chocolate and blueberry pancakes. But we don't have any of the stuff I'd need. And I know they wouldn't be anywhere near as good as when you make 'em, but it's the thought that counts, right?"

Matt peered in the fridge over Al's shoulder. Nothing but leftover pasta, burgers, and cans of soda. They really needed to go food shopping. And Matt would make sure Al didn't just buy what he wanted this time…

"If you want, I can run out and pick some stuff up."

Alfred pulled himself out of the fridge, giving Matt a "no way in hell are you doing that" look. "You stay here; I'll pick it up. Come on, I'm trying to do this for you; what kind of celebration would it be if I made you go out and buy the stuff for your own surprise?"

Matt sighed. "Okay, okay. Just don't go crazy and buy more things for burgers or other crazy stuff we don't need, please?"

Alfred just stared at his brother. Did he really think that was what he did? No way! Everything he bought he did so for a reason. Maybe Matt couldn't always see it right away, but he knew and that was all that mattered. "…Fine. I'll head out and be back in like twenty minutes," he said, grabbing his set of keys off the counter.

"I'll be here," Matt said, plopping down on the couch to begin channel surfing.

The door clicked shut behind Al and Matt focused on the TV, looking for something decent to watch. Click. News. Click. Game show. Click. Click. Matt sighed. There was never anything good on at this time and he refused to stoop to watching children's cartoons.

He heard the doorknob rattle and turned to glance curiously at the door. He hadn't been flipping through channels for that long, had he? No, he could have sworn Alfred had just left like five minutes ago, not even.

More rattling.

Matt laughed. "Did you forget which key it was again, Al? I keep telling you to mark it or something so you don't forget, but there aren't even that many—"

Matt heard a click and the door swung open. He scrambled off the couch as a masked man rushed in, racing for Matt. The blonde didn't waste a second, running around the couch and making a beeline for the bedroom. If he could make it to his hockey stick, he'd be perfectly safe. He kept it just between his bed and the nightstand if ever anyone tried to break in. Despite knowing Al would most likely take care of it before he could, it was comforting to know it was still there.

Matt was a force to be reckoned with when he had his hockey stick in hand. Despite his shy and often timid nature, with it he was even stronger than his younger brother. Matt would occasionally threaten Al with it when the younger blonde started getting on his nerves. There was no real explanation for why that was the case; he just felt stronger and more confident with it. It was as much a part of him as the maple syrup he loved drowning his pancakes in.

Matt looked over his shoulder and frowned. He wasn't expecting his attacker to be so quick and agile. He swiftly leapt over the couch, giving chase towards the bedroom. Matt tried to pick up the pace, but the man responded, speeding up to stay on him. Huffing, he wondered if this man was some kind of athletic star too.

The next thing Matt knew, he was being tackled to the ground just outside the bedroom. The two wrestled for a bit, rolling and tumbling down the hall, each trying to pin the other down. Matt's head slammed against the wall in the scrap, leaving him dazed as spots danced across his vision. He shook it off to find his arms pinned down, his attacker straddling him now. Matt started to panic, thrashing about underneath him. His eyes met with his attacker's piercing red ones and a chill ran down his spine. Those were just contacts to scare him, right...?

_Oh God, oh Maple, what do you want from me…? I don't have anything…_

Matt fought back the tears threatening to well up in his eyes. Why did it have to be him? Was this a robbery gone bad and he wasn't supposed to be there? Was he going to be taken advantage of? Matt panicked even more noticing their position. He was seriously starting to regret not going out for the groceries himself. Alfred would have had this guy down in no time. Or he could have even asked to come along…

_If I live, next time… _Matt grit his teeth. _No. No, he's not going to get me! _

Fueled by his thoughts, Matt did the first thing he could think of, headbutting the guy. A sickening crack filled the air and with a surprised yelp, he rolled off Matt, hands flying to his face. Blood flowed through his fingers and he chuckled softly, not expecting the kid to put up such a fight.

Matt scrambled to his feet, not daring to waste a second, and ran again for the bedroom, knocking over a few things in his haste. His heart hammered in his chest as a hall lamp fell to the ground and shattered.

_Run, Matt, run, don't look back, you'll be safe soon._

Or at least, that's what he wanted to believe.

Matt had almost made it to them when he felt something hard hit the back of his head. He stumbled forward, hands flying to the back of his head as his thoughts temporarily jumbled from the surprise. He tried summoning the strength he had on the ice, but it didn't seem to want to come unless he was wearing his trusty skates.

Despite the surprise attack, pain in his head, and possible bleeding wound, he fought back, hands gripping for anything he could use as a weapon. Matt may have been invisible at times, the quiet kid in the back, but he could be just as stubborn as his brother. Neither of them backed down from a challenge—not that Matt was noticed often enough to be challenged. People only seemed to remember him during one of his hockey games. Off the ice, he was just that kid nobody paid attention to. And he was okay with that; fame and glory were Alfred's thing, not his.

His attacker felt less up for a fight. While it was awfully exciting to see the blonde giving what one might consider a decent fight, the throbbing in his face was driving him up the wall. He pulled a white cloth out of his pocket and held it up, Matt's eyes widening. Matt knew exactly what that was, kicking and thrashing in a desperate attempt to escape. Tears threatened to spill again as he thought back to all of the movies Al made him watch. People actually did this in real life?

The cloth inched closer to his face until it was pressed against his nose and mouth, the blonde trying desperately not to draw in a breath. There was no noticeable scent, but he could feel the chemicals trying to force their way into his system and take him over. That plan failed miserably, however, as in trying to calm himself down and not think about it, he thought about it more and hyperventilated in his panicked state, breathing in lungfuls of chloroform.

The drugs worked quickly; Matt started to get incredibly dizzy as the unwelcome tiredness flooded his body and forced his eyes closed. "H-He…" Matt tried calling for help, his voice lost.

His glasses fell to the ground as he was thrown over the man's shoulder, hanging limply. It was so much easier without the fighting and running, he thought cheerfully. The last thing Matt saw before the world went black was his front door opening and being locked again, no one to know of the events that had just transpired.

The blonde was blissfully unaware of his hands being bound tightly behind his back, of being thrown into the backseat of an incredibly ordinary looking car. No one on the block saw anything; there were no witnesses. The normally fairly busy street happened to be empty today; it couldn't have been planned any better.

* * *

Alfred returned fifteen minutes later, heavy-looking bags in hand. He fumbled in his pocket for the keys, trying to keep the bags from falling out of his hand. After a few more seconds of trying and failing to fish them out, he figured he had a brother for a reason, right? "Hey Matt, open up!"

Alfred waited. No answer.

"Matt, come on! These are heavy!" Al bounced back and forth on his heels to keep himself occupied while he waited for Matt. He absolutely loathed waiting; sitting still for too long was one of the worst imaginable things. "Mattie!"

Waiting there, Alfred had time to start going over what he'd say to his older brother when he saw the handful of bags. Sure he was only supposed to get the things he needed, but Matt never could truly understand how important it was to always be stocked up on the essentials. After all, what was a house without a surplus of burgers and soda? He was a growing boy; he needed energy!

But Al would handle all that when the door opened. _If _the door opened.

One last chance because Alfred was getting impatient. "Matt!" Still nothing. Grumbling, Alfred set the bags down to effectively fish the keys out of his pocket. "I'm going to get you back for this, Matt, just you wait."

The lock clicked open and Al stepped in, fully ready to go off on his brother who couldn't even be bothered to get up from the couch and… Al blinked, quickly noticing the lack of his twin. After a few seconds of staring at the empty couch, he figured he was probably just in the bathroom or something. Or maybe he fell asleep waiting for him. The number of possibilities was endless.

That was when Al realized the current state of their apartment. There were things thrown from their usual places, littering the ground. The aura of the house felt incredibly out of whack, sending a chill up his spine.

Al didn't know what he should be feeling. Surprise? Fear? Panic? This was such an out-of-body experience for him. In a daze, he took a step forward, snapping back to reality when he heard a light crunch under his foot. He stopped himself from putting all his weight down, pulling his leg back like he just got burned. With a gasp, he scooped up the now cracked pair of glasses, heart racing a mile a minute.

"Matt, this seriously isn't funny anymore! You're freaking me out!" Alfred tentatively walked towards the bedroom, stepping over the shards of the hall lamp that lay on the floor. Matt couldn't have left the house without his glasses… He was blind as a bat without them. Alfred was the same way, so he knew how bad it could get.

He was about to take another step towards the bedroom when his body froze, unable to move anymore. He saw the droplets of blood on the floor and screamed his brother's name, hyperventilating.

Blood; there was blood. Matt was gone and there was blood.

_This is no time to freak out, Alfred! Your brother needs you. NOW. _

Alfred ran for their phone and shakily grabbed it, calling 911.

* * *

Down at the precinct, Ivan was pouring himself a cup of coffee. He had just returned from his previous case, one he worked closely with his younger sister Natalya. Said sister was currently in the office of their older sister…again. She did not approve of Natalya's radical methods for solving cases. But this time they were arguing about the unfortunate "accident" of her partner that involved several broken fingers.

The rest of the precinct had learned to tune out the arguing between the eldest and youngest siblings. Fighting between the two was not an uncommon thing. While Katyusha was the sweetest woman they knew, cross her and she could make even the most hardened officer turn tail and run.

In the corner of the room, four desks were set up together, three out of the four currently in use. There sat the small team of forensics expert Toris Laurinaitis of Lithuania, computer extraordinaire Eduard von Bock of Estonia, and information bank Raivis Galante of Latvia. The fourth desk belonged to Natalya, but she refused to work with Toris any longer, instead wishing to work alongside her older brother.

Raivis was the youngest of the trio, but for somebody who could be so jumpy, he quickly worked his way through the ranks to join the rest of the detectives. The other officers, Ivan especially, had taken to referring to the trio as the Baltics due to their close origins. The three hated the nickname at first, saying that they were nothing alike, but after a few weeks, it grew on them.

Raivis laughed a bit, taking a sip of his coffee—not that he needed it; the kid drank so much of it that he developed a constant jitter. Toris was about to respond when the phone rang, his two deskmates falling silent.

"911, what is your emergency?" Toris asked calmly, keeping the accent out of his voice as best as possible.

"—AT, Army, Navy, _somebody! _Help!"

Toris pulled the phone away from his ear, grimacing at the volume. Ivan looked over curiously, having been able to hear every word spoken clearly despite being on the opposite side of the room. Taking a sip of his near steaming coffee, he went over to join the Baltics.

"Is this another drunken prank call?" the tall Russian asked, glancing at Toris.

Toris shrugged, trying to get the person on the other line to calm down. "Sir, please, I can't understand a word you're saying. You need to—"

"_My brother's been kidnapped!_" The caller repeated, still screaming.

Ivan sighed and took the phone from Toris. "Lead Detective Ivan Braginsky at your service. Now you will either calm down or no help will be given to you, do I make myself clear?"

The voice on the other end stuttered at Ivan's matter-of-fact tone, going silent for a moment before squeaking out a shaky "…Okay."

Ivan sighed, setting his coffee down on Toris' desk to switch it for a notepad and paper. "Good. Now that we have that settled, walk me through this slowly, da? What is your emergency?"

A sigh came from the other end. "My name is Alfred Jones and somebody kidnapped my older brother."


	2. Chapter 2

**_Hey, all! Red here. So here's chapter two for those of you interested in my story! I'm finding it a lot easier to write as I'm here in Russia. xD And thank you to Illead who told me that apparently the word "blond" had a gender. I didn't know that; I just thought it looked nicer with an e at the end. Anyways, chapter two!_**

**_Feel free to tell me what you think! Comments are always welcome. :3_**

* * *

"Toris, you will be with me." Ivan set the phone down, rubbing at his temples. After finally getting all the necessary information out of the overly excited American, he was sure he could see a headache coming in his near future.

The eldest Baltic stood, looking curiously at him. "Me? Are you sure, sir?" Toris had mixed feelings about Ivan. The Russian was undoubtedly exceptionally good at what he did, but the man just didn't sit quite right with Toris. It was a feeling Toris had as soon as he joined the department and met him, but that feeling only grew over the years as they worked cases together.

Ivan nodded, pulling his gun and badge from his desk drawer, tucking them away safely in the pockets of his coat. "You are an expert in forensics. If this is the man I am thinking of, there will probably be no evidence, but it cannot hurt to stay positive, da?"

"I-I suppose…" Toris did the same, fishing out his badge and hanging it around his neck. Toris preferred to keep his in plain sight so everybody knew who he was, unlike Ivan who would rather keep his hidden. In his eyes, it lessened the chances of him getting attacked for no good reason. Ivan was much stronger than him and he knew the Russian had very little to be scared of. He clumsily fastened the holster to his hip when Ivan began to speak again.

"You took down the kid's address I trust, da?"

Toris swallowed and nodded. "O-Of course." Last thing anyone in this department dared to do was screw up around Ivan. That was a one-way ticket to a punishment nobody wanted to be subject to. Whether or not he got away with it because his sister was Captain of their squad or because even she didn't dare cross him was a mystery for the ages. But it was no secret that Ivan could get away with almost anything and he knew that.

"Toris," Ivan said simply, waiting by the door. Ivan could be a very impatient man and repeating himself was something he very rarely did.

"Coming!" The brown-haired man chased after the Russian, the two remaining Baltics not daring to say another word until the door slammed shut behind them.

* * *

Alfred sat curled up on the couch, clinging to Matt's glasses like a lifeline. All the doors were locked, unlocked, and relocked just to be safe. Their home was compromised once; who was to say a second time was impossible? And just for extra protection, he dragged one of the armchairs in front of the door, barricading it to discourage future break-ins.

Holding Matt's glasses to the point of breaking them wouldn't bring his older brother back, but it gave him some odd sense of stability in this crazy, screwed-up situation he found himself in. It almost felt like Matt was there and he could swear he heard his soft-spoken twin telling him all the reasons why maple syrup was the greatest thing in the world. It brought him comfort to think that instead of imagining possible scenarios his brother was being subjected to by this villainous unknown criminal.

There was a harsh knock on the door and Al jumped. "G-Go away! No one's home!" Alfred groaned slightly, hearing how weak and scared his voice sounded, but who could blame him? It was a totally legitimate time for that!

"This is the police," a heavily accented man answered.

Alfred curled up a little more on the couch. "How do I know that? You could be a spy! Or one of them! You think I'm going to fall for that?"

"Alfred, you just spoke to us on the phone not too long ago. Open the door and we can prove it."

"Hell no! Show me your badges!"

"Our badges? Da, if that is what you want. But you will have to open the door so we can show them to you."

Alfred stood, narrowing his eyes at the men behind the door. He was too clever to be outsmarted by a couple of criminals. "No way, man. What, do you think I'm an idiot?" Ivan didn't feel the need to dignify that with a response. "Hold 'em up!" Ivan sighed and glanced at Toris. They hadn't even seen what the kid looked like yet and already he was being such a pain, dancing on Ivan's nerves.

But the Russian complied, reaching into his pocket to pull out the small black wallet that held his shield. He held the badge up to the peephole first, keeping his hand still so the kid on the other side could read the number clearly if he wanted to. Toris watched the senior detective for a second before doing the same.

Alfred ran over to the door, climbing over the armchair barricade to squint through the peephole. He didn't care much to remember the numbers on the shield, instead being fascinated by the fact that he was looking at actual police badges. They were just as cool in real life as they were in the movies.

_Wait, focus! No time to get distracted, even if they are cool… Think they'll let me hold them? _

_Ah! Focus, Al. Right. Okay. _

Everything seemed to check out so far, but one could never be too careful… Who was to say the badges they were carrying weren't just incredibly well-made fakes?

"Open them up! I want your names!"

Toris again looked at Ivan for permission. This was all standard procedure according to the book, but it wasn't every day they had to show their credentials to such an extent. Usually a quick flash of the badge was all it took. Either this kid watched too many movies or he was paranoid.

Perhaps that wasn't the nicest conclusion to jump to considering this kid's brother just got kidnapped, but still…

Ivan gave a slight nod, the two flipping their wallets open in one swift motion. Al couldn't help but grin behind the door, feeling like he was watching a scene straight out of a movie. Before he knew it, the tall one would be kicking the door in while the one next to him tossed him his gun.

Alfred reminded himself to focus again, studying the IDs intently. Ivan's was clearly an older picture, showing off a young eighteen year old boy. His features hadn't changed all that much over the past few years, the Russian never seeming to quite grow out of that childish face of his. Those piercing violet orbs were just as unreadable in the picture as they were on the real thing.

Clearly written beside the picture was the name "Ivan Braginsky" in bold lettering, the title "Lead Detective" and his badge number written on the next line in slightly smaller text size. A small holographic golden badge glittered behind the names as it caught the light.

After studying the cards for a few minutes, Alfred having absolutely no idea how to even imagine the pronunciation of the surname "Laurinaitis," he decided these guys checked out and it would be safe enough to open the door. He kicked the armchair to the side and flung the door open to meet the officers.

He was not, however, expecting Ivan to be that _big. _The Russian stood about a head taller than him and looked like a giant compared to the smaller dark-haired man beside him. Alfred caught himself staring and tried to play it off like he was just sizing them up.

"Alright, you guys check out… You're really tall, you know that?"

So much for that plan.

Alfred quickly tried to change the subject as Ivan raised an eyebrow. Toris looked fairly surprised; that wasn't the first thing they were usually greeted with and it threw him for a loop. "So you're Ivan…Braginsky?" The blond asked, fumbling horribly with the pronunciation of the surname as he stepped aside to grant the two officers entry.

"Braginsky, da," Ivan corrected, following the blond inside. "And my partner, Toris." The former gave a polite nod at the mention of his name, stepping inside after Ivan.

Alfred brightened. "Oh, so you're the ones I spoke to on the phone! Thanks for coming so quickly."

"You're welcome," Toris said gently. "But you don't need to thank us. It's our job."

Ivan looked around, making a quick mental note of the crime scene as Toris pulled a small notepad from his pocket and took the pen from behind his ear.

"How long ago did this happen?" Ivan asked, moving about the living room. Best to start the line of questioning now before they were surprised with anything else. He took care not to touch anything as he moved. Disturbing a crime scene was one of the worst things to do; the messy after-state of the scene was the only thing left to tell the story. Disturb it or eliminate it in any way and it may as well have not existed in the first place. The state of the crime scene was especially effective in cases that involved shootings. Those were Eduard's specialty.

Ivan paused just by the window, pulling out a pair of latex gloves and slipping them on. No sign of forced entry here. The windows hadn't been tampered with. Neither had the front door. He was quite a skilled lockpicker. Or did he lure the kid out with false words?

"About an hour ago?" Alfred asked, watching curiously.

"Where were you at the time of the incident?"

"I ran to the store to pick up a few things. I called you as soon as I got back."

Toris was standing by Alfred, studiously taking notes. He wrote down everything the kid said, verbatim, of course, taking care not to miss a single detail.

"Do you and your brother get along?"

Alfred frowned, thinking for a minute before realizing the meaning behind the question and sending a glare Ivan's way. "Hold up, man. Just what exactly are you implying? If you're thinking I had something to do with his, you've got another thing coming." Alfred crossed his arms angrily.

"Relax, Alfred. These are routine questions we ask everyone. I am not trying to accuse you of anything. Unless there is something you are hiding…?"

Alfred huffed. "Why would I even want to hurt Mattie? He's my older brother! I can prove it! I've got the receipt. It's timestamped and everything."

"Alright, alright. I believe you." Ivan made his way to the hallway, stopping beside the broken shards of glass. More signs of a struggle. "Do you know anyone who had something against your brother?"

"Nah. Mattie's the kind of kid who doesn't make waves. He doesn't start anything with anyone. The only fights he's been in are when he's on the ice, but he's practically a different person then. He's really good in school."

"I see… Toris. Come take a look at this." Ivan waved Toris over, the former quickly taking down Alfred's latest statement before hurrying over. The Russian kneeled down, closely examining the droplets of blood.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Da. It looks like he got careless this time. There is never this much to find at once. Unless it belongs to the kid. Either is possible, of course. You know what to do."

Toris nodded, joining his partner on the ground. Toris pulled out a sterile swab, taking a generous sample. He bagged and tagged it all by the book, turning the little tube over in his hands. "I'll tell Eduard to get on it right away, sir."

"Good," Ivan said simply, picking up one of the glass shards. Since it wasn't a murder case, Ivan knew he could get away with touching things if he wanted to, despite the fact that they really shouldn't be. "You think he was struck with this?" He held it up for Toris to see.

Toris squinted, studying it carefully. His eyes moved to the rest of the shards littering the ground, taking in the full sight as scenarios began to play out in his head. He imagined Alfred's brother striking the criminal with the lamp. No, that didn't look right. Turn that around and Matt was the one being struck. No, that looked wrong too.

He studied the base of the lamp, also finding the same amount of nothing that would lead him to the conclusion that it was actually involved. "No, I don't think so," Toris said, beginning his observation. "There isn't enough blood on the floor for that. And if you look at the shards, there's no blood on any of them. It's the same with the base of the lamp. Even if he struck him with that, there would be some indication of it. My guess is that it just got knocked over during whatever struggle occurred here."

Ivan chuckled. "A very valid point, Toris. Then how did this blood get here? If I was him, I would not have given the kid the chance to fight back. I would want to hit him once…" Ivan stood quickly, wearing a grin that more than unnerved the smaller mean as he swiftly moved behind Toris, simulating a blow to the head. "…and make it count."

Toris let out the breath he was holding when Ivan stepped away, extremely afraid the demonstration was going to involve actual pain. He thanked his lucky stars that it didn't and just nodded silently.

Alfred visibly tensed upon hearing the men so casually talk about the fate of his brother. Not a single good or positive thing was said—unless the point Toris made about not getting hit with a lamp could be considered good news—and it didn't faze these men at all.

Not to say he didn't arrive at conclusions like that as well. He did, but it still made him sick to think about Mattie being struck on the back of the head with anything hard enough to draw blood. That was such a cowardly move, too. His attacker didn't even have the decency to face him as they fought. Not to mention he was probably blind, too!

_Oh God, did Mattie even see the attack coming? _

Now Alfred was making himself angry as he imagined different scenarios in his head of his brother begging for his life, of his brother unable to see and being struck on the head, his brother lying unconscious on the floor…

No, that was not the only thing that could have happened! Alfred shook his head, hoping the thoughts would disappear. Matt would have put up the best fight he could. He was _his _brother, damn it, and wouldn't be brought down so easily.

Alfred watched enough of these detective shows to know that sometimes not everything was what it seemed. There were always multiple sides to every story and this one could not be that different. Instead of watching, this time he had to be the hero and help the police save his brother!

"But there's a chance that's _not _Matt's blood, right?"

Toris nodded. "There's always a possibility, however unlikely. I'll let you know when we have it analyzed, but I highly doubt it."

"How long is that going to take? The longer we wait, the longer that man gets to have his way with Mattie!"

Ivan looked at Alfred, impatience flickering in those violet orbs of his. "These things take time, Alfred. We have to run the DNA against our database and hope for a match. And it is very unlikely that any harm will come to your brother at this current moment. That is not how he likes to operate."

Alfred was getting fed up with these responses. Each answer just raised more questions in his mind. These two officers obviously knew more than they were saying and he refused to be kept out of the loop in this situation.

"You guys keep saying all these things like you know who he is. Do you know him?"

Ivan and Toris exchanged a glance, the former sighing.

"Da, I know who he is. This is not my first time dealing with him."

Alfred's eyes widened. "You know who he is?! Why didn't you catch him yet?! Who is he?"

"First, you need to calm down. Second, you just asked us to hurry up and now you are asking for a story? Make up your mind and stick with it."

Alfred glared at Ivan. "Listen, dude, if you know something, I want to know what it is. I have just as much of a right to know as you do right now."

"You are starting to get on my nerves, you know that?" Toris tensed, shifting beside him. This couldn't be good…

Alfred huffed and crossed his arms. "You're not exactly the most pleasant guy either, you know that? I'm surprised I can even understand you with how thick your accent is."

Toris could feel the aura in the room growing darker around Ivan as he and Alfred glared at each other and wasn't sure if he should either laugh at how funny this whole situation was playing out to be or turn tail and run for cover.

Ivan rolled his eyes and sighed, not really feeling up to fighting with some stupid little kid. "First off, I said it was just a hunch, da? We will have to wait a little longer to see if it is the man I am thinking of. But the man I am familiar with goes by the name of…"

* * *

Matt groaned, waking up from his less than pleasant slumber. His head still throbbed, serving as a painful reminder that everything that just happened hadn't been just some terrible horror-movie induced nightmare or something. He could already feel the bump forming; he didn't need to touch it to know it was there.

He looked around, panicking when everything was one big fuzzy, blurred image. Colours and shapes blended together until he couldn't discern one thing from another regardless of how much he squinted or shook his head. It was bright, but that offered no help. But it was a little more comforting than sitting in complete darkness, right?

Matt started to shake a little. Had the drugs messed up his vision? Would he be blind for the rest of his life? He tried to pull his arm free to fix his glasses—maybe they were cracked or broken or something—and getting even more scared when he found his hands were still tied behind his back. No amount of pulling was getting his arms free anytime soon and the rope was only biting further into his skin.

Matt pushed himself off whatever he was sitting on and got to his feet. It was soft and not all that uncomfortable; a bed or a couch, maybe? Not having his hands to hold out in front of him was going to make getting around a problem, so Matt would have to settle for keeping his shoulder against the wall and using that as a guide. If he followed it long enough, he would have to reach a door eventually.

Dying in here was the last thing Mattie wanted to do.

He followed the wall for a bit, trying to make out anything that could be at all useful. He passed by a window and was blinded by the sunlight, but had no way of knowing if it was open or closed. And attempting to jump out of it was a stupid move Alfred would probably make, especially when he had no idea how high up they were.

Matt tripped over something and unceremoniously fell to the ground with a shout when the door swung open.

"I'm back!" exclaimed the man, walking over toward the fallen Matthew.

Matt scrambled back as best he could until his back hit the bed and squinted up at the man. He could just make out those piercing red eyes again and it looked like he was wearing dark clothing.

"Here. I went and found these for ya. Not sure how well they'll work, but it was the best I could do."

Matt froze and shut his eyes tightly as the man leaned in closer and slipped something onto his face.

_He's going to blindfold me and take me away now. I probably wasn't supposed to wake up… Is he mad? _

When nothing unspeakably horrible happened after a few seconds, Matt slowly opened his eyes, blinking several times. Shockingly everything had gotten significantly clearer, the blond being able to recognize that he was in a bedroom and staring…right at his attacker…

"Please don't kill me…" was the first thing Matt squeaked out, unable to pull his gaze away from the strange man in front of him.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Hey, all! I'm *so* sorry this chapter took me forever and a day to get out and I'm also *so* sorry it sucks so much..._**

**_I started this story when I was away in Russia and it was so much easier for me to write it there; all the inspiration! _**

**_Anyway, without further ado... Chapter three. _**

* * *

The first thing Matt noticed was the ferocity of those piercing ruby eyes. They were staring right at him and Matt shrunk back a little behind the gaze, feeling like everything about him was exposed for this stranger to see. An unruly mop of snow white hair rested atop his head, wild and untamed just like the man probably was. Matt also noticed just how pale the man's skin was, especially compared to the dark colour of his shirt. He figured it was from having to stay hidden for so long; if he was a criminal, the only real source of light must have been that from the moon at night. But even then, he was too pale and Matt found himself staring, eyes flickering over his the rest of his form.

This man was unlike anybody Matt had ever seen before. He was a skinny man, but he could see from his arms that he was fairly toned. Matt assumed that under the loose, casual clothing he was wearing, he could see the soft outlines of his muscles. What surprised him the most was how _young _he looked. His face was youthful but hardened; he had definitely had some interesting life experiences for somebody who appeared to be only a year or two older than Matt, if that. His face was also surprisingly expressive for somebody who lived a life of crime; his expressions gave nothing away as to what the man could be thinking, but the blond was thankful that he seemed to experience emotions just like him.

The man blinked, taking in the sorry sight that was the kid laying before him. _That _was the first thing the kid wanted to say? Not "Where am I?" or "Why am I here?" or any of those other stock phrases people generally asked when they were taken? He stayed quiet for another minute, waiting to see if the pleas would continue or he would get to the questions.

When it didn't seem like the kid had any more questions to ask, he threw his head back and laughed, the sound filling the room. Matt tilted his head, throwing a quizzical look at him. He had no idea what was so funny; he didn't say anything weird as far as he was concerned.

_Oh no, he's crazy… He's going to kill me for sure… _

The laughter finally stopped, red orbs focusing on Matt once again. "Oh, that's a good one! You're pretty funny, kid! I kind of like you." If that was supposed to reassure Matt in any way, it did the exact opposite. His words, laced with what he believed to be a German accent, only served to make the sentence that much scarier.

That confirmed it; this man was definitely crazy. Matt tried to back away again, forgetting his back was already up against the wall. This was it for him, he could feel it; he would never see Al or his Papa or Dad ever again, there would be no more hockey or maple syrup with a hint of pancakes…

With the strange man in front of him, there was nowhere to go. Even if he could surprise him with an attack or dash past him, he would have no idea what to do next. With his luck he would run straight into a dead end or into his kidnapper. The man seemed unstable as it was; Matt didn't want to risk potentially angering him by trying to escape. But where would he even go once he got out? He had watched plenty of movies with Al; he was probably in the middle of nowhere, somewhere where nobody would ever find him or hear him scream. Even if he did escape, there would be no hope for him finding his way back.

Matt stared at him, working up the courage to summon his voice again. "W-What?" he squeaked out in the same soft tone as before, wishing that for just five minutes he could have his brother's courage.

He laughed that same strange high-pitched laugh, wiping tears out of his eyes. "O-Oh, you're too much!" He took several deep breaths, trying to get himself to stop laughing and fill his lungs with oxygen. "I haven't laughed that much in a while! I needed that. You're a fun one; I'm glad I took you and not your brother."

Matt's eyes widened. "Al? You wanted Al…?" So he wasn't the real target after all. "What did you want him for?" He didn't even notice how much easier it was to get himself to speak now; the words were flowing out of him.

_So I wasn't the target after all. I guess I should've known… _

The man took a seat on one of the chairs and shrugged, looking incredibly relaxed. "It didn't matter which one of you I took, really. As far as I'm concerned, you're both the same. Either one of you would be able to get me what I wanted. You just happened to be there."

That was a low blow for Matt. As much as he loved his younger brother, he hated it when people compared and confused them. Alfred may have been Matthew's twin, but they were two completely different people. Their personalities were nothing alike and as far as he was concerned, they looked different enough where people could tell them apart without too much trouble. Their eyes weren't even the same colour! He was his own person; why couldn't anybody see that? He lost track of just how many times people mistook him for Alfred if they even noticed him at all.

"We're not the same!" Matt cried, his voice stronger and louder than it had been since he was taken. Indigo eyes met surprised ruby ones and the man leaned forward in his chair, intrigued by the kid's sudden outburst. "We're different!" There wasn't much that could make Matt raise his voice or even get angry, but he was Matthew Williams and he wanted others to know that too. "I'm _Matthew_! Not Alfred!"

The red-eyed man raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin plastered on his face. The blond was getting so worked up! He liked watching him like this, liked seeing the fire in those indigo eyes. So, his name was Matthew? It was cute; fitting, even. "Okay, Matthew, okay. I didn't think you had that in you!"

Matt blinked at hearing the accented voice of his kidnapper speak his name, tensing slightly. "Y-You know my name…?"

Now it was his turn to take on the surprised look. "Yeah, you just said it as you were ranting. Remember?"

Matt looked away nervously. "O-Oh yeah…" He forced a soft laugh, wishing he was anywhere else but here right now. He turned his attention to the door, trying to think of the best possible escape plan. This man was setting him on-edge and all he wanted was for his natural powers of invisibility to kick in and let him disappear from this nightmare. He could be forgotten and walk right out without a hassle. When he got out of this, his first priority would be to work on summoning those powers at will.

He decided to look around the room, trying to get a better feel for the strange man in front of him. The room itself was nothing special; the walls were a plain, ordinary colour one could expect to find in any common house. There was nothing ornate about the furniture; it was the most basic set Matt had seen in a long time.

_If Papa was here he'd have a heart attack about the overall layout of the room… _

His Papa had a love for fashion and had a keen eye for decorating. The home they all shared was decorated by his Papa with suggestions he took here and there from the boys—Alfred wanted nothing more than to have a big picture of the Justice League in the living room so he could see it when they all watched TV and despite the fact it clashed with the rest of the setup, he let it slide because it was for his boy. Everything in the house looked lavish and fancy; he could do a lot with a little.

"I mean, I don't know your brother, but I'm sure you guys are nothing alike."

Matt stared at the man, not even bothering to hide the surprised expression on his face. "You…what?"

He just shrugged. "I have a brother too, so I get it. I'm the older one, but…" He shook his head and Matt could swear he heard a hint of sadness and regret in that normally cheerful voice. It was strange to hear his voice like this after the carefree tone with which he normally spoke and the loud, obnoxious laughing. "So, just…yeah, I get the whole brother thing."

Matt didn't know what to say to that. He understood him…? But nobody did. Nobody really paid him any attention long enough to understand him. This man was supposed to be his captor, but here he was sharing personal information with him. He was more than confused. Conversations with anyone other than Al or his family made Matt incredibly nervous; he decided to just stay quiet and go back to looking for an acceptable means of escape.

"Don't even think about it, kid." Matt looked away from the door again to see him relaxed in his chair, casting a sideways glance at the door. The chair was leaning back on its two legs; he was effortlessly keeping himself balanced. "Where are you gonna go? You can't get past me. Don't make me have to knock you out again. You're fun to talk to and you look a lot nicer when you're awake."

Matt's eyes widened. Was he being that obvious in his plans to escape or was this just something the other was used to? He preferred staying awake, even if this was a terrifying experience that would possibly require several long therapy sessions. Awake, at least, he had the ability to fight back if needed. Whether that would get him anywhere or not was another story. He may have been tall, but the other was definitely stronger.

Defending himself wasn't the only reason he wanted to stay awake. If he knocked him out and then suddenly decided he wanted to move somewhere else, any chance of him getting a lock on his location and reporting back to Al would be lost. If there was only a way to get in contact with him…

Matt thought back to just before he was taken. He was lounging on the couch, checking the time on his mobile as he channel surfed.

…The phone! If his phone was still in his pocket, maybe Al could track him with it. Hopefully Al was busy putting all that movie crime scene knowledge to some use and would think of doing that. Or at least call for help. Hope fluttered in Matt's heart at the thought. He'd be saved soon enough and all would be well. Were there people out there looking for him right now? Was his brother worried sick?

…Did Al even realise he was gone?

Matt would apologise profusely for it when the two were reunited. And if their parents found out… Being the children of both English and French parents meant things could get very colourful at their place. His English father had a short temper and was quick to blow; he could fire off a chain of insults faster than anyone Matt had ever seen before. And his Papa, his French Papa, was _incredibly _overprotective of them when he wasn't trying to calm the Englishman down. Of Matthew especially.

When he found out that anything happened to his baby, there would be hell to pay and Papa would make sure that they got what was coming.

"Cute plan, kid," he said with a smirk, clearly still amused. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, the small Canadian maple leaf charm swinging as he waved it around. "But that's not going to work."

Matt was shocked. Was this guy a mind reader as well as a criminal? He must have been; that's the only way he could have known to pull the phone out at the exact time he started thinking about it. Which could explain why he was never caught…

"No, I'm not a mind reader. I'm just awesome, that's all! That and I know a few tricks. I think we're going to have a good time."

Matt forced a laugh. "Y-Yeah… You are going to let me go, right…?"

The phone was stuffed back into his pocket, leaving Matt wondering if he was ever going to see it again. As long as he kept it on, it didn't matter. They would find him. Matt was sure of it. "If you behave and do everything I say, you might just get to live to see your family again."

Matt swallowed hard. What choice did he have? He was running out of ideas. Maybe he could appease him in some way. "W-Well what do you want? Money…? My parents can pay if you're looking for a ransom or something…"

"I just need you to follow my instructions and everything will work out just fine, okay?"

"Okay…" Matt focused his gaze on the floor, struggling against the rope that tied his hand. In situations like this he would twiddle his thumbs or hug his favourite polar bear plushie that had more names over the years than Matt could even remember. How he missed it…

"Look, if you promise not to try to run or do anything stupid, I'll untie your hands, okay? Does that sound good?" Matt's head snapped up. All he could bring himself to do was nod dumbly, surprised by the sudden kindness. It took most of Matt's courage not to inch away from the man as he approached, visibly tensing as he moved behind him and out of sight. "Just for now, though, since we're inside. I'm not going to keep being this nice later."

The ropes slid from his wrists, the blond rubbing gingerly at the chafed skin. It felt nice to have the use of his hands again; hopefully it would stay that way for a while. "T-Thanks, uhm…" He rubbed his wrist a little harder, hoping the pain would distract him long enough to get the one question off his mind. "W-What's your name…?"

With a wide grin, he walked over to the table, picking up the small cordless phone. "Kesesesese! You want to know who I am?"

He pulled out Matt's phone again, glancing from his screen to the phone in his hand and back again, punching in numbers. Finally he brought the phone to his ear, pausing for a few seconds, grin still in place. "The name's Gilbert, kid. Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Indigo eyes widened. _The _Gilbert Beilschmidt was the carefree looking man before him…?

* * *

Alfred blinked. What was with all these hard to pronounce names lately? First Braginsky, then Laurinaitis, and now Beilschmidt? "So this Gilbert person is the one who has my brother? You're sure of this?"

Ivan sighed, not even bothering to correct the blond on his earlier attempt—if it could be called that—of the pronunciation of the surname. "_Again, _I have said I am not sure. I just cannot see anybody else it would be."

"Well you're the police! It's your job to know! You have to track down the bad guys and bring them to justice!"

Ivan rubbed his temples and turned to Toris, the smaller man having no difficulty figuring out what was on Ivan's mind. The kid was getting on Ivan's last nerve faster than anyone he had ever seen before. It was practically a new record. Toris occasionally enjoyed watching Ivan getting mad when the cause of it wasn't him or either of his partners. He was still only slightly annoyed, but was quickly making his way towards irritated. Alfred didn't have to try very hard to get under Ivan's skin. If the Russian started getting any angrier, Toris would step in, but for now, he would silently enjoy the scene in front of him.

"Alfred, we are police officers, da? Not superheroes. We only know what we can find out and right now that is not much. We will be going after the criminals when we have enough of a lead to go off of. A hunch is certainly not enough."

"What? But you guys are always on the case! You can track down the bad guys in no time flat in all the movies I've seen! Or are you just trying to keep your justice-bringing powers secret?" Alfred beamed, a wide grin on his face as he looked at the two officers.

Ivan groaned and Toris had to keep himself from laughing. Was this kid serious? He obviously watched _way _too many movies and had deluded himself into thinking that everything worked the same way in real life as it did on the big screen. "And when a new lead presents itself, we will follow up on it, you can rest assured. But complaining and getting on my nerves is not going to help either of us at all, so I suggest you tone it down."

"Whoa, dude!" Alfred crossed his arms and pouted, getting in Ivan's face. "First off, I don't complain. Second, you'd be pretty fucked up to _not _be worrying about your brother being whisked away by some crazy international criminal! And now you've told me you _know _the guy and haven't done a damn thing about it!"

"Alfred, you have our word that we will do everything we can to find Matthew. So just calm down…" Toris tried, desperately hoping he would be able to prevent the storm that was brewing in the room.

Ivan stared at the boy in silence for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing a laugh that caused Toris to flinch and shrink back. "Прости меня! If you think you can do better, then by all means, feel free to take over the investigation! I am sure I will not have to explain protocol to you and I can expect the case to be closed by the start of business tomorrow, da?"

Toris stepped in-between the two, giving Ivan a stern look before turning to Alfred. "Leave it to us, okay? There are just certain rules that have to be followed and we don't always get results right away… But we've got some evidence and that's as good a starting point as ever."

Ivan took a step back, shaking his head. Alfred fixed his ocean eyes on the ground, sighing loudly. "Fine… I guess that's okay with me for now… But I'm going to be there for whatever happens next." Suddenly a wide grin appeared on his face and he stared right into Toris' emerald eyes. "You guys need me! I can help you."

"Absolutely not."

Alfred glared at Ivan. "Why not? I can help, really! Nobody knows Mattie better than I do and I know lots about catching bad guys!"

Ivan moved so he was mere inches away from the blond, narrowing his eyes. "There is no help you can provide us. You are a child who thinks he will be able to be some kind of hero by saving his brother. You will only get in my way."

"You don't know me, dude. Maybe that's how it is where you're from, but there isn't anything Alfred Jones can't do!"

Ivan just smirked. "Where I am from, annoying children such as yourself would not be so daring to speak to their elders like that."

"What did you say?!" Alfred stood on his toes to try and match Ivan's height, staring into those bright violet orbs. Neither one of them looked away, trying to prove their strength to the other. Alfred didn't blink. Neither did Ivan. Toris could feel the air in the room growing thicker, heavier, and thought it would be a great time for the two of them to start heading back to the precinct.

Before he could get a word out, the phone in the living room rang loudly, playing its annoying tune. Alfred and Ivan blinked, turning their attention to the phone. Toris walked over to the table, slowly reaching out to answer it.

"Wait," Ivan said, stepping away from the dumbstruck blond. Toris froze where he was, looking over as Ivan passed him by. "I am going to handle this."

The phone rang again, Toris nodding and stepping back to stand next to Alfred. They exchanged equally confused glances, Alfred's eyes silently asking just what was happening, to which Toris simply shrugged. Asking him was pointless; he was as much in the dark as Alfred was. If his hunch was correct, he had an idea as to just what was about to happen, but until then, he'd keep his mouth shut.

Ivan finally picked up the phone, answering with a simple "Hello?"

There was a laugh from the other end and Ivan raised an eyebrow, smirking. "I'm looking to speak with someone; maybe you know him? He's large, Russian, kind of an asshole…"

"Is there something I can do for you?" he answered, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

"Oh, hey, Ivan. I'm _so _glad you answered. Actually, I was just hoping you'd be the one to answer. It's been a while since we've talked, hasn't it?"

Ivan chuckled, leaning slightly against the small table. "Da, it has been quite a while, Gilbert. How about we start with where you have taken the kid and we can all go home early today?"

Alfred's eyes widened. "Did you just say 'Gilbert'?! As in the guy who has my brother?!" Alfred saw red. Without thinking, the blond made a beeline toward the phone, desperate to get his hands on it and find out just where his older brother is and what kind of horrible things he did to him.

Toris pulled him back by the collar before he could get any closer to Ivan, shaking his head. "What are you doing?!" he shouted, trying desperately to get away from the brunet who was surprisingly stronger than he looked.

"Alfred, don't! Let him handle it…"

"Now, now, Ivan," came the mocking voice through the receiver, and Ivan could practically see the grin on his face as he spoke. "I'm the one holding the cards here, after all. Shouldn't you be a little nicer to me?"

Ivan sighed. Arguing with the psychopath would get him nowhere at the moment, especially when he was so in the dark. Best to play along and strike when the odds were more in his favour. "What is it you want, Gilbert?"

"Well since you asked…"

* * *

_**Прости меня: I'm sorry/forgive me. **_


End file.
